frengers
by shortie is back
Summary: [modern day]Nothing has gone right for Jack Kelly ever since high school ended. It's time for a change, time to turn his life around. And responding to a lucky find on craigslist might just be the way to do it.
1. the biggest loser in the world

**frengers**

* * *

_i'm caught in the symmetry of your mind  
but i'm not happier than you  
did i really see you…  
or was it a dream?_

* * *

Jack Kelly never thought he'd end up pumping gas

He'd never even considered that he'd be one of those people that would peak in high school, but here he was: twenty years old, hair greasy and hands filthy, over a year's worth of oil taking permanent residence under his fingernails. The princess in the silver BMW wrinkled her nose and made a noise of unmistakable disgust as he reached out to take her credit card from her perfectly manicured hands.

He felt a pang, just like he did every time someone he would have been friends with in high school came by. In fact, in high school he probably would have dated this girl. They would have hung out with the same crowd, he would have been driving her around in her hot little car, and together they would look down at the pathetic slob who was making a living pumping gas.

"Fill it with premium," she said absently, checking her platinum hair in the rearview mirror. Now…now this girl who would have loved him in high school refused to even look at him. "_Well_?" she spat when he didn't move.

"Miss, you need to open your fuel door."

"Are you _serious?_ Can't you do it yourself? No… never mind. There's obviously a reason that _you _are pumping _my _gas." She made a big dramatic show of reaching down and popping open the fuel door. Jack rolled his eyes. "_There_," she said, tilting down her sunglasses and staring at him coldly with impossibly green eyes, "Can you hurry up now? I'm in a ru-- _ohmigod!_" She cut herself off with a painfully loud squeal and stared at him, her mouth gaping.

"Is there a problem, Miss?" he gritted his teeth.

"Wait, you, come back over here for a second."

He obediently walked back over, nozzle in hand.

"You're not by any chance… Jack Kelly, are you?" She took off her sunglasses peered at him curiously. Yeah, there was no _way _that was her natural eye color.

"Who's asking?"

"Oh my God, you don't remember me do you?"

"…Sorry?"

"Ashley Kellman!" He shrugged, "Oh come on, Jack. My name came right before yours in the alphabet. Our lockerswere_ right_ next to each other all four years. I walked in front of you at graduation. Ringing a bell…?"

He stared at her, stunned. The Ashley Kellman he'd gone to high school with had mousy brown hair, weighed about 300 pounds and never said a mean thing to anyone. There was no _way _that this gorgeous blonde with the expensive car and the holier-than-thou attitude was the same girl. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, not quite sure what to say to her.

She smiled at him expectantly. It was nice to know that his high school power could still get him somewhere at least.

"You look… uh… different," he said finally.

She laughed and shrugged dismissively. "Well, some of us are just late bloomers, I suppose. Not that _you _would know about that Mr. Homecoming-King-Three-Years-in-a-Row."

He grunted a noncommittal noise, watching the numbers on the display spin by at a painfully slow rate while Ashley chattered on. Not too soon, the pump clicked to let him know the tank was _finally _full and he busied himself with removing the nozzle, hoping that this conversation was over.

He should have known it wasn't; nothing ever went the way he liked anymore.

"College has been wonderful for me," Ashley was saying, "I ended up with nearly a full ride to Temple, you know, in Philly? Daddy was so proud and so happy he didn't have to pay that he bought me this car and, you know, good things just kept happening for me after that. You know?"

She giggled and fluffed her hair. Despite himself Jack couldn't help but stare; she _was _pretty damn hot now.

"It wasn't easy, but you know, I was able to drop the weight, had a little rhinoplasty, a brow lift and… well, a few other minor procedures, and well, now I know how you felt back in High School!"

"Um… yeah. That's great for you." He shoved her card roughly into her hand. "It was great catch-"

"Thanks," she slipped her credit card into her wallet and kept talking as though he hadn't said anything. "And then I joined a sorority, it's a local on campus but that's soooo much better because we don't have any stupid old people breathing down our necks about stupid things like standards and I get to hang out with _fraternity _boys! Are you in a frat, Jack? You totally are the type!"

"No."

"Really? That's too bad! Oh well, tell me about your life, Jack. We haven't spoken at all since high school!"

He almost laughed out loud. They never spoke _in _high school either.

"You know, I would love to but I really have to work." He said in what he hoped sounded like an apologetic tone.

"Oh, don't be silly, Jack," she waved him off. "I'm the only car here, what other work do you have to do? Now, I want to hear about _you_ Jack Kelly. I'm sure you're living a fabulously exciting life. Last I heard you were at school in New Mexico?"

"Yeah."

"That's so far away!"

"Yeah." He stared desperately at the main road, praying for someone to save him from this embarrassing discussion.

"Are you on break?"

"You could say that."

She pursed her lips and he could tell that she was trying to decide which of the many questions that had popped into her overly bleached head she wanted to ask first.

"Really Ashley," he butted in before she could say anything, "my boss is probably watching and he hates it when I'm not efficient, so…"

"You know," she said quietly, reminding him more of the Ashley he'd known in high school, "financial problems are nothing to be ashamed of. You can tell me if you want, I won't say anything."

He'd take that; it was better than the truth.

"Yeah," he shrugged and sighed for good effect, "We had to put my grandmother in a nursing home and there wasn't enough money, so I decided to sacri--"

He was interrupted by a loud blast of music.

"Oh, you know what, that's me. I'm so sorry, hold on," Ashley said. "Hello?"

Jack was slightly miffed. The _one _part of the conversation he didn't mind-- the part where he was able to save a little face with the rumor mill-- was the _one part_ that was interrupted.

"Oh yeah, I'm on my way, I just had to stop for gas," Hot Blonde Princess Ashley was saying in her new haughty tone. "Yeah and you'll never _believe _who is working here now! Yes, it's quite a story." Pause "Yup! He looks hot as _ever_!" Pause "I'll be there soon, darling. You couldn't expect me not to _talk _to him, right? Okay, Ciao.

"Oh, Jack," she said, putting her phone away, "it looks as though I lost track of time, but we should continue this! I'll get your number from someone! Bye!" She drove off without even giving him a chance to answer.

It was probably better that way.

The silver convertible carrying Fate's idea of a joke sped off in a cloud of fumes and exhaust. Cursing colorfully under his breath, Jack slumped to the ground, leaning against one of the pumps. He pulled a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket and lit up, pointedly ignoring the two dozen signs posted around the gas station forbidding smoking. Right now he needed it.

Fate was cruel; ridiculously fucking _cruel_. Fat losers like Ashley Kellman shouldn't be allowed to be rich, pretty and…fucking _happy_ like that while he: confident, popular, three-time-homecoming-king-should-have-been-prom-king-thankyouverymuch, captain of the soccer team Jack Kelly was a perpetually greasy mess who couldn't even make it through one semester of college.

He should have known that it was a bad sign when his suitemates, who liked getting drunk and partying as much as the next college kid, were telling him to slow down. He should have known that the fact that Santa Fe didn't card him like Jersey did meant he could go out and get black out drunk six days a week. Or maybe someone should have told him.

He lit up his fourth cigarette. He could really use a drink right now, actually. Big Bubba had left for the day and told Jack that he was in charge. It was a slow day and the liquor store was well within walking distance, if he left now he'd have enough time to pick up a six pack and probably not lose any business. And it wasn't like being drunk on the job would be difficult or anything, he pumped _gas_ for Christ sake. He could do that in his sleep.

"Hey jackass, wanna make yourself useful?"

He was so lost in his musing that he hadn't even noticed the beat up Accord pull up to the pump he was slouched against.

"Not particularly," he mumbled, stubbing out the filter of his cigarette.

"Man, I'm glad my tax dollars are going to _you_," the guy sneered. "So come on, dead beat, get up and pump my fucking gas."

Jack stood up wearily. "You ever heard of respect, dude?"

"No."

Okay, he wasn't expecting _that _one.

"Well maybe you should try it some time." He shoved the nozzle into the car much harder than necessary.

"_Watch _the car."

"Yeah, whatever." He jostled it a little just to piss the guy off.

"_Stop it_"

"Or what?"

The guy got out of the car. He was a _big _guy; _much _bigger than Jack now that he was standing up. Jack tensed. What had he just gotten himself into?

"I'm calling your boss."

* * *

"You got fired from a gas station," Sebastian Conlon said flatly, staring in amazement at his roommate. 

Jack just shrugged, not taking his eyes off of the video game he was playing.

"Jesus Christ, you are such a fucking loser."

He shrugged again, and blew some guy's head off.

"People don't get _fired _from gas stations. That's the job you get when you're fired from every other damn job in the world."

"_Thanks_ for that, 'cause, you know, I was feeling pretty good about myself until you started talking." His character died. He cursed loudly and threw the controller across the room, just missing the TV.

"Oh, I'm not done, Kelly. Not even close. And that?" He gestured to the wall where there was now a black mark and a small dent from the controller, "is coming out of _your _security deposit."

"I can get it out."

"Yeah, you better." Sebastian exhaled slowly, "I can't believe you, Jack. You pick a fight with a customer--"

"How was I supposed to know that that guy was Big Bubba's brother?"

"--you chain smoke a pack of cigarettes while practically sitting in a puddle of gas… you're lucky you're not dead! What the fuck are you? Stupid?"

"I think the fact that I'm not in school makes that one pretty obvious

"And did you even think about the fact that there are security cameras there? Even if that guy _wasn't_ related to Big Bubba, you would have been screwed. What were you thinking? Did you actually expect to _not _get fired?"

"I fucked up, okay? I know that. You don't have to tell me." He'd never seen Sebastian so angry before.

"_Yeah _you fucked up. You have trouble with your half of the rent even when you _have _a fucking job. I can't keep paying for you, Jack. I have expenses too!"

Jack raked a hand through his hair, "Look, Seb, I'll get the money. I promise. I'll ask my dad again… or maybe this time he'll let me move back in…"

"No way. There is not a chance in hell that you are sticking me with this place and no roommate. I can't afford that."

"…I'll get another job?"

"Damn right you will. Feel free to start looking now." Sebastian threw the employment listings section of the paper at him and stalked off. Seconds later, the front door slammed.

Jack leaned back against the couch and stared at the wall for the next half hour feeling very, very sorry for himself.

-

…_never hope to be  
as benign as me  
funny how you  
always get through  
but ironically  
you will always be  
belle of the ball  
at least to me…_

* * *

**Alex's Notes**: 

**Over a year hiatus,** I am back. I don't know if anyone except the NJL kids remember me, but I really appreciate you taking the time to read this. It's not a one shot, and as time and dedication permits, I will be trying to make this a long, plotful (it's a word now, k) story.

**Thanks **go to **Kezalicious **and **Dflizzle** for betaing this for me and to **Sinhe **for answering my questions about gas station technology. I am from New Jersey. The most I know about pumping gas is what kind to ask for, so…

I also have no idea what Temple's Greek Life is like. Also, there is no Santa Fe University. There's a Santa Fe Institute, but their website confused me and I don't think it's a real college type thing. Also, by the way, in case you were wondering, I don't own the Newsies.

**Title** is a mesh of the words 'friends' and 'strangers' and is taken from the **Mew **album of the same title. Lyrics, both at the beginning and the end, are also by Mew, from the song "Symmetry" on the **Frengers **album. I highly suggest giving them a listen as they are phenomenal and even better live.

**Jack **can totally **pump my gas** any day.


	2. better dead than homeless

**frengers **

* * *

**$1000 Ridiculously Awesome Rooms with Ridiculously Awesome Roommates!!!!!!!!!! **(Lower East Side)  
Reply to: jacobs.d at gmail. com  
Date: 2007-4-16 4:20PM EST 

2 rooms available in HUGE 5BR 2 bathroom loft in the LES! Great location! Very close to the A express and other trains. Getting to midtown couldn't be easier.

And we have a balcony!!!!

It's an 8 floor walkup (but it has a balcony so it's worth it) which kind of sucks, but you'll be in great shape. (And seriously, there's a balcony)

We'd like you to be neat. Neat freaks are definitely encouraged.

(Actually that's not true. We already HAVE a neat freak and definitely don't need another one. As long as you're not TOO gross we don't care if you're a little messy.)

(But really, we don't care at ALL if you're a slob.)

Last roommates were jerks (and slobs). Don't be a jerk. (OR A SLOB!!!)

REALLY, be a slob if you want. Not ALL of us mind mess!!!

ANYWAY, so, it's an 8 floor walkup right near the East Village. The rooms we have available are adjacent (in case you don't know what that means like I didn't until Davey told me, it means they're next to each other) and have the exact same dimensions. No measurements, but they're large enough for at least a full bed, a dresser and a desk. At least that's what the previous (asshole) roommates had in there. There's closet space, but not too much. And windows in both rooms. Living room is big and fully furnished (Big screen TV! And we have a wii! And tivo!) Kitchen is also fully equipped: stove, microwave, fridge, oven, tempermental dishwasher and probably any appliance that you'd need. Between the three of us, we have like, everything imaginable. Washer/dryer in basement.

AND we have a balcony!

Yeah, it's pretty large. We have some nice patio furniture out there and a grill. In the summer we do cookouts out there a lot. It's a really effin' awesome balcony. You really have no idea.

The (Awesome) Roommates:

**David-**  
-21 years old  
-Journalism major at NYU  
-Quiet and Studious  
-Uptight  
-OCD  
-Neat Freak  
-Doesn't know how to have fun without us  
-Has a 10PM bedtime  
-Um, that's because he has CLASS at 8AM every morning unlike SOME other people. And it's not 10PM anyway. It's more like midnight or something  
-Still lame  
-Sleeps with a stuffed animal  
-Has a hot sister  
-I DO NOT

**Nick-**  
-20 years old  
-Dance major at NYU Tisch  
-Way more fun than David  
-Built like a Greek statue  
-Yeah, he wishes  
-Bursts into song randomly on a regular basis. Usually at the worst times. Like 3AM when you have a final the next morning and really need to sleep. And he sings REALLY BAD SONGS. Like Journey. At 3AM.  
-Has absolutely no manners and burps A LOT  
-Thinks he's the hottest thing ever even though he isn't  
-Except that he definitely is  
-Never wears a shirt  
-And everybody loves that  
-Yeah, HE WISHES

**Louis-**  
-20 years old (turns 21 on May 12. There will be a shit show of a party in the apartment, you're invited. Tell your friends)  
-Won prom king both at junior AND senior prom  
-Hasn't accepted the fact that high school's been over for YEARS now  
-Professional type  
-Deadbeat loser who doesn't go to college  
-Except that he has a really good job that he doesn't NEED college for and is definitely NOT a deadbeat  
-Yeah, if you call being a glorified secretary a good job, I totally agree  
-Looks like a pirate  
-Okay, that crossed a line, fuckbucket  
-Get over it

**You-**  
-Are not a jerk  
-Are neat  
-Are not an asshole  
-Are not as anal retentively neat as David  
-Around our age.  
-But if you're really hot, we can overlook that last one  
-Um… no jailbait, please  
-Are male  
-Or female  
-Like to have a good time  
-Bring over hot people  
-420 friendly  
-Pay rent on time  
-Like balconies

Unlike every other Craigslist ad, we WANT you to bring the party home. Preferably enough party to share, especially if one of us is having a bad night. Which if we're home while a party is going on, we probably are.

We're not looking for a new best friend, but we would really like to get along with you (so don't be a jerk like our last asshole roommates) and eventually, yeah, we'd like you to be our best friends.

The room is unfurnished, but Davey's sister works at a furniture store and can get you a deal. Oh, and she's pretty hot. Um gross, no she is NOT. But really though, she is.

$1000 a month plus utilities, toilet paper fund money, and porn subscription contribution. Jerks need not apply. If you're interested (which you should be. Remember: BALCONY), email Dave at jacobs.d at gmail . com and tell us a little about yourself and we will send pictures and arrange a time for you to look at the place.

Thanks!

* * *

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. 

"Well?" David asked expectantly. "What do you think?"

"David…" his mother trailed off.

"Yes…?"

"David, David, David…" she sighed.

"_What_, Mom?"

"It's very good, David. You describe the apartment well."

David closed his eyes and let out his breath slowly. He hated that tone; it meant there was a 'but' coming.

"But…" there it was. "If I could make a few suggestions…"

_No, Mom. You cannot._

"You said it was good, Mom. Can we just stick with that?"

"Don't you want my honest opinion, David?"

_No._

"Well yeah, Mom, but…"

"No, David, that's alright. I just thought you might like to hear what your mother has to say, but it's really okay, David. You know best."

"Okay, thanks Mom. We're going to post it on Craigslist tonight."

"You always know best." She continued, "What do you need your old mother for anyway, right? All grown up now… maybe you'd like it if I didn't call you every day, wouldn't you?"

_Actually…_

"Mom, _please_ stop it with the guilt."

"What guilt?" She huffed, "What kind of mother do you take me for, David?"

"Never mind, Mom." He could feel a headache coming on, "Tell me what's wrong with my ad."

"Well, David, like I said, it's really very, very good..."

"I have class in half an hour, Mom." He sighed.

"That was very rude, David. I did not raise you to be sarcastic with me."

"_Mom_"

"I just… don't understand what sort you are trying to attract with that advertisement…"

"What _sort_?"

"I mean, it is rather crude… and do you really have to refer to those nice Delancey boys as… as 'a-holes' so many times? They really are dolls."

"Um, no they're not."

"And you're sister is 'hot', David? That's a little disturbing for you to say."

"Ma, I didn't _write _that part!"

"Oh? Then who did?"

"Nick, but-"

"Well you can tell Nicholas that as long as he's a gentile, he doesn't have a chance."

"_But _he only says it because he knows it bothers me."

"Well, that's not very nice! You know David, I really think those boys you live with are a bad influence on you."

David rolled his eyes, "They really aren't, Mom."

"I really think they are, David! I mean, they don't go to school-"

"Nick does. He spends more time at school than I do."

"Oh, Nick doesn't have a real major, honey," she said dismissively. "And what do you mean he spends more time there than you do? I don't want to hear that you're slacking, David! All A's this semester, right?"

"Yeah, sure Mom. And, actually, Louis has a really great job. He's planning on going back to school, but right now that's not what's right for him."

"David, you don't need to defend your friends to me. They are what they are."

"Mom, _stop _it!"

"What David?"

He had to hand it to her; she actually sounded genuinely confused.

"Never mind. Mom, I have to get ready for class. I'm going to post the ad as is, okay?"

"Okay, David. Like I said, you describe the apartment very well. I just have one question."

"Yeah?"

"What does… '420 friendly' mean?"

* * *

Jack liked balconies. 

Apartment 202 had a balcony. Jack, a resident of apartment 102—which, by the way, did not have a balcony, couldn't help but notice it every time he left the complex. As far as he knew, apartment 202 didn't pay any more in rent than he and Seb did.

Somehow, that didn't seem fair.

Of course, technically speaking, apartment 102 wasn't _exactly _his anymore. Not in the long term, anyway. In theory, he still lived here for the next ten days… it was after that that he would be 'forcibly removed'.

At least that was what the eviction notice said.

Two months had passed since Jack had been fired. Two months without any sort of income and two months worth of days where he should have been looking for employment spent on the couch watching MTV dating shows and the first disc of _Carmen Electra's Aerobic Striptease _that Seb's ex roommate had left on top of the DVD player when she moved out. As a result, he'd watched entire seasons worth of _NEXT _and _Parental Control_ and could now do all of Carmen's dances without even looking at the TV. Unfortunately, he didn't think he could make as much money off of that as she could.

It had also been one and a half months since his first missed rent check had been due, half a month since the second. Three weeks since he'd lied to Seb and told him that he'd found a job, and exactly one week since he found out that his landlord was married to Big Bubba's third cousin and considered him very close family.

So, in ten days he would be homeless.

He heard the unmistakable sound of Seb's keys in the lock and groaned. And in approximately ten minutes, he'd be dead. Or maybe not; it all depended on how he handled the situation.

"Hey Jack, what's up?"

"We were evicted today," Jack blurted out. Well, at least being dead would be better than being homeless.

The myriad of looks that passed over Seb's face would have been comical if the situation had been different. First, he stared at Jack blankly, which was quickly replaced by confusion followed by understanding and then surprise.

Jack figured it would be best to step in before he got to anger.

"Yeah, um, remember how I told you I got that job at Starbucks?" he laughed nervously, "Well, as it turns out, I, uh, didn't. And, uh, that also means I didn't pay the rent."

"Which you also told me you did," Seb said tightly.

"Yeah. Yeah I did. And, yeah, apparently that's not a good idea when everyone in the whole damn town is related to your old boss who fired you on not so good terms. So yeah…" he trailed off, looking expectantly at Seb, whose face was unreadable.

"Oh," Seb said slowly. "How long we got?"

"Ten days. Well, I guess nine now because the notice came this morning so that's one day down."

"Ten days, huh? Ten days before we're homeless?"

"Nine, but yeah."

"That sucks," Seb said so calmly it was making Jack nervous. "Can I see the letter?"

Jack nodded and picked it up from the mess of food wrappers covering the coffee table, handing it to him. He shifted nervously from one foot to the other, wringing his sweaty palms while Seb wordlessly read the notice. Finally, he sat down and put the paper back onto the coffee table.

"That sucks," he repeated. "Wanna order pizza for dinner?"

Jack stared at him, "Pizza?"

"Yeah, I was thinking Aljons. But if you want to get Chinese or something, I think I could be persuaded."

"Wait… pizza? Chinese? _What_?"

"For dinner, Jack." Seb said slowly. "I'm starving, I haven't eaten all day." He looked at the mess on the coffee table, "looks like you have, though. Good thing you've been doing that Carmen Electra workout or else you'd lose the one thing you still have going for you, huh Jacky-boy?"

"Are you seriously not going to say anything else about… you know."

"The eviction? Nah. We have ten days, right?"

"Nine."

"Right. Nine. Well since dinner is going to happen tonight, I think it's a more pressing matter, don't you?"

"Uh…"

"So pizza or Chinese?"

"Pizza, but really Seb, can we talk about this?"

"What's there to talk about? So, we were evicted. You fucked up again because that's what you do, but I got faith in you, Jacky-boy, even if no one else does anymore. I trust that while you were home today, you made yourself useful and found us another place to live, right?" He smiled brightly at Jack.

Yeah. Seb was absolutely _furious_. If Jack said the wrong thing, he would snap. And seeing Seb snap—especially in _his _direction—was not something Jack wanted to happen.

"Oh yeah, absolutely. You know me," he winced, "I clean up all of my own messes."

"Excellent," Seb said in that overly cheerful voice. "I'll order dinner and then you can tell me all about it."

Cursing under his breath, Jack logged onto his computer and pulled up the last craigslist ad he'd been looking at. And actually, reading it over, it seemed pretty cool. The rent was twice as much as he and Seb were paying here, but he knew that despite his claims otherwise, Seb had some money saved and could cover his him until he got a new job. And in Manhattan, it would be _so _much easier to find work, especially since nobody would be related to Big Bubba. And best of all…

"Hey Seb," he called out when he heard his roommate finish placing their order, "do you like balconies?"

"Yeah, who doesn't? And you know what's always pissed me off? Those fuckers upstairs have a balcony and we don't. And I checked, you know? We pay the same amount that they do."

Jack grinned at the computer, plan formulating. "And what do you think of moving to New York?"

"New York? Shit, Jack. That would be awesome, but rent is expensive and what about school and work? I can't just pick up and leave, you know."

"Don't worry about that, Seb," Jack said easily, beginning to compose an email to jacobs.d. "We'll make it work. We always do."

* * *

**Alex's Note: **Holla to all the Jersey girls reading this! May you never touch a gas pump or have to remove yourself from your vehicle during cold or inclement weather to pump your own gas. 

The **craigslist ad **is my dream apartment, boys included.

Unfortunately, the formatting I originally had didn't seem to translate well. especially David's email address. So... pretend, I suppose. I'm a little miffed about that, not gonna lie. It ruins the validity of my fake craigslist ad.

**Ester Jacobs **is based off of my own mother.


	3. always a catch

**frengers**

* * *

"There has to be a catch," Seb said for the sixth time as they walked out of the subway tunnel. "A five bedroom apartment in Manhattan with a _balcony_ for only $1000 a month? That doesn't make any sense." 

Jack shrugged and dug the directions he'd scribbled down out of his pocket, "It sounded legit when I talked to David."

"There's got to be something wrong with it. It's probably really crappy and has termites or something."

"Yeah, maybe." Jack said distractedly. He frowned at the slightly crumbled paper. "Hey, if we turn left, will the streets go up or down?"

"Or maybe the 'bedrooms' that are for rent are really closets. Or even just corners. Maybe they're actually trying to fit five people into a studio."

"Yeah, I think they'd go up. Which means that we want to turn right…"

"Or maybe they're psychos who bring innocent people in by offering them amazing deals and then they kill them and… hey, are you listening to me?"

"Huh?"

"I asked if you were listening to me."

"No. Are you listening to _me_?"

"No."

"I said that I think East 11th is this way."

"And I said there has to be a catch with this apartment. It seems too good to be true."

"You've been saying that for the past two days."

"Because," Seb said crossly, "if it _is _too good to be true, then we are officially homeless."

"Stop being so pessimistic and have a little faith in me."

Seb muttered, "It's kind of difficult when you're wearing that thing."

Jack grinned and tipped his Stetson at Seb, enjoying the annoyed eyeroll that was sent his way. "Whatever. It looks hot."

"No Jack, it makes you looks like a retard."

There was a short pause while Jack struggled to think of a comeback.

"At least I'm not _you_."

Seb snorted, "Nice try, Cowboy. _I'm _not the loser who failed out of school and got fired from a fucking _gas station_."

"Ugh, let that go already."

"No way, there's enough ammo there to use it forever. And I haven't even _touched _on the getting us evicted thing," Seb smirked as Jack tried not to look offended. All of a sudden he stopped walking and frowned.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked.

"The street numbers are supposed to be going down, aren't they?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because they're _not_."

Jack stopped walking and stared at the sign marking the corner they were at. "Shit. How did we get to 16th?"

"By walking the wrong way?"

"No shit, Seb," Jack groaned and ran a hand through his hair, effectively pushing the cowboy hat off of his head, "I really can't do anything right, can I?"

"Jacky-boy, _please _don't start this."

"Why not? It's true, isn't it?"

"Because it's pointless. I'm not going to feel bad for you. Let's go, we need to start backtracking or we're not going to make our appointment."

"And then we'll be homeless."

"And then we'll be homeless," Seb agreed.

"And it will all be my fault."

"And I still don't feel sorry for you."

"Oh come on, I deserve it."

Seb snorted. "I will tell you, though, that if this place _does _turn out to be a dud, you're _so_ dead."

"At this point, that's probably the best thing that could happen to me."

"_Still_ not feeling sorry for you."

"Damn."

* * *

The building, they both noticed when then finally arrived, was extremely old. The ivy covered brick exterior seemed to be crumbling right before their eyes and two of the street facing windows were held together with duct tape. Neither of them were, however, as Jack pointed out in retaliation to Seb's 'I told you so' look of disgust, on the eighth floor.

That seemed to mollify him until they found that the buzzer for apartment 8A—Jack checked his directions six times to make sure that that was the right apartment—was covered in what looked like chewing gum, which neither of them were very eager to touch.

Seb was flat out _glaring _at him by they were finally able to follow someone into the building and it didn't get any better when they remembered that there was no elevator.

Neither of them realized quite how long eight flights of stairs really were.

"We are so out of shape," Jack panted as they staggered their way up the final flight.

"Speak for yourself," Seb shot back. He clutched the railing and used it to pull himself up a couple steps and groaned, "Okay, you're right we are."

"Wanna take a break?" Seb nodded resignedly and the two sat down heavily on the nearest step, breathing hard.

"Oh man," Jack complained once they had their breath back, "Remember back in high school when we'd have to run for three hours straight for soccer practice?"

Spot nodded, lacing his hands behind his head and leaning back. "How could I forget?"

"And now we can't even make it up eight flights of stairs."

"Looks that way."

"That's kind of pathetic." Someone said behind them. "Especially since you're only like, five steps from the top."

Both boys turned around stared at the guy standing on the eighth floor landing.

"Hey, you'd be tired too if this asshole dragged you all over the fucking city cause he doesn't know how to _count_." Seb said, jerking a thumb at Jack.

"Oh what_ever_, jerkoff. _You're _the one that insisted on taking that 'short cut' that practically took us all the way back to Midtown."

"You don't even know which way Midtown _is_."

"Maybe you could show me one of your _shortcuts_?"

Seb opened his mouth to answer but the guy's snort of laughter cut him off. "Relax guys, eight floors is… a lot," his tone suggested he thought otherwise. "No judgments here," he said, holding up his hands. Jack and Seb glared at each other. "Are you Jack and… that other guy that wants to rent our rooms?"

Jack stood up quickly, "Yeah. You David?"

"Nick," he said shaking Jack's hand, "Davey sent me downstairs to see if you guys were lost, which we figured you were since you were supposed to be here like, a half hour ago."

"Yeah, cause your directions blew."

Nick raised an eyebrow, "Who are you again?"

"This is Sebastian," Jack said before Seb could say anything, sensing he was in one of his moods.

"Hey," Nick held out his hand, but Seb just stared at it. Jack nudged him forcefully, receiving a death glare in return. He shrugged apologetically at Nick who drew back his hand and ran it awkwardly through his curly hair.

"Okaaaay, why don't we get out of the stairwell and David can question you and show you our balcony and stuff?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Jack said and began climbing the stairs again. "What the hell, asshole?" he muttered, shoving Seb as they followed Nick down the hallway.

"He said we were pathetic!" Seb whispered back.

"Yeah, well, be nice or else we're _homeless_."

"And whose fault is that?"

Jack shoved him again. "I'm trying to fix things, okay?"

"By making us live in this shithole?" Seb scoffed, "Yeah, you're doing a great job."

"What happened to too good to be true?"

"The opposite is just as bad."

Apartment 8A was all the way at the end of the dimly lit hallway, which meant that Jack had to listen to Seb comment under his breath on each run down door and the shabby rooms that must lie behind them. By the time they got to 8A, Jack really wanted to punch Seb. He considered this a good sign; since high school had ended, it seemed to always be the other way around.

The door was no nicer than any of the other doors on the floor. It looked as thought it had once been white, but time and neglect had made it a dull, dirty gray color and half of the 'A' was missing from the apartment number. The inside, however, was a completely different story.

"Davey!" Nick called out. "I found them!"

"Hey," A door swung open and another guy, David, came out, wiping his hands on his jeans. Jack got a short glimpse of what looked like the nicest kitchen he'd ever seen before the door closed behind him. He caught Seb looking too and shot him his own triumphant 'I told you so' look. "Did you find the place okay?" he asked after Nick made the necessary introductions.

"Obviously not," Seb said, but his tone was hardly as obnoxious as it had been.

"Sorry, I guess my directions weren't so great. I figured, you know, two guys from Jersey would know their way around the city."

"No problem. We made it."

"Yeah, and we're not showing this place to anyone else today, so we have time. Hey, Mush," he turned to Nick, "Go wake Blink up and I'll show them around."

"You mean he's _still _not up?"

David shrugged, "If he is I haven't seen him."

Nick sighed. "Excellent. I'll see you guys in about three hours. Blink sleeps like the _dead_." He explained over his shoulder before disappearing behind the same door that David had come out of.

"Blink?" Seb asked, raising an eyebrow, "Mush?"

David shrugged again, "They went to high school together and got stuck with weird nicknames. I've never known them as anything else. Mush I have no idea about and he's definitely not telling. Blink… well, you'll probably figure that one out pretty quickly. Anyway," he said, motioning for them to follow him as he walked out of the entrance hall, "Let me give you the tour before they try to screw it up.

"This is the kitchen, as I'm sure you can figure out." Jack and Seb looked around in amazement. This definitely did not look like the kitchen of any college guys either of them had ever known. The black counters and stove were shiny, clean, and remarkably new looking. And the ad hadn't lied; they _did _appear to have every appliance known to man, arranged neatly on shelves along the wall.

The kitchen opened up into a modern, trendy looking living room with black leather couches and one of the biggest TVs Jack had ever seen. A couple of stairs lead to a second level with five doors that Jack assumed were the bedrooms. And a door in one far corner lead the way into what Jack could only hope was…

"And here's the balcony," David said, opening the door. Jack couldn't help but grin, it was everything he had imagined and more; almost two times bigger than the bedroom he inhabited back in New Jersey and five times better decorated.

Reluctantly, they followed David inside and he showed them the bathrooms (_way_ too clean for any college student, Jack had thought) and the identical empty spaces that would be his and Seb's bedrooms before they all sat down at the glass topped kitchen table. It was a far cry from the scratched, dented surface that doubled as a beer pong table that he and Seb shared at home.

"So, was it what you expected?" Dave asked.

"Absolutely not," Jack shook his head laughing, "It's about a million times nicer."

"Yeah," Seb looked suspicious, "What's the catch?"

Jack groaned.

David, however, looked confused. "Catch?"

"Yeah, catch. You really mean to tell me _this _place is on the market so cheap?"

"Oh," David said nonchalantly, "Rent-controlled. My grandma lived here since before World War II. We just put her in a nursing home and I inherited the place."

"So," Seb frowned, "You're living here illegally."

David smiled, "Technically. The landlord's not gonna do anything about it, though. He's scared of my mom."

"_Everyone's_ scared of your mom," Nick said cheerfully, walking out of one of the doors and leaping gracefully down the short staircase, a much less animated boy with a patch over one eye in tow.

Jack stared. "You really _do _look like a pirate," he said, awed and Seb punched him in the shoulder.

The patched kid, who Jack guessed was Louis, yawned widely, appearing unaffected by Jack's comment. "And you look like a cowboy."

Seb snorted, "That's what I said. _Please _take that thing off, Jack."

"No." Jack was offended, "This is a _real _Stetson. It ties me to my roots."

"Are you from out west?" Nick asked.

"His _roots_ are in New Jersey," Seb muttered.

Jack tipped his hat, "I used to go to school out in Santa Fe."

"I don't think you can call that 'going to school', Jacky-Boy."

"You don't anymore?" Dave pressed.

"Um," Jack shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "No."

"Why not?"

"Failed out," Jack muttered.

"Why?" Nick asked, eyes wide.

"Drank too much."

"_Awesome_!" Louis cried, pounding the table.

"_Not _awesome." David glared at Louis, "Careful of the table, okay? My mom will kill you if it breaks after a _month_."

"Sorry, Davey," he muttered.

"How about you?" David asked, turning to Seb. "Do you go to school?"

Seb nodded smugly, "Graduating in the top percent of my class next month from a community college back in Jersey."

"Congratulations," David said. "So, until you graduate, would you be commuting to school from New York, then?"

"That was the plan."

"So why are you moving now? Why not wait until after you graduate?"

"What's with the twenty questions, Davey?" Nick asked, "Give these guys a break. This isn't the inquisition!"

"No Mush," David said slowly, giving Nick a weird look, "It _is _an interview, though."

"Oh," Nick said, looking thoughtful.

"So?" David asked, turning his attention back to Seb, "What brings you out here _now_?"

"I agree with Nick. What's with the twenty questions?"

"…is there something you don't want to tell us?"

"I got us evicted from our apartment," Jack blurted out and winced as all eyes were suddenly on him. He had meant to let Seb handle this.

"Why?"

"Uh, because I didn't pay the rent for a few months…"

Seb's head audibly thumped against the glass table.

"Why not?"

"I… got fired from my job."

David was really looking interested and Jack suddenly remembered that he was a journalism major. "Why?"

"I kind of picked a fight with this--"

"Jesus _Christ_, stop talking!" Seb growled, lifting his head from where it was cradled in his hands. "Listen. Jack is a fuck up. He has no sense of responsibility and no _filter on his mouth_," he glared at Jack before continuing in a softer tone, "But I grew up with this kid. I've been looking after him since third grade and now that I know that he _still_ can't take care of himself, I don't plan on stopping. I have a steady job back in Jersey and my boss is already making calls to have me moved to a New York City location. All of my references check out, and if you ask our old landlord, you'll notice that we never missed a rent check until I decided to give Jack a little responsibility."

"Also," Jack added helpfully, "If you don't rent us the rooms, we'll be homeless."

There was a long pause and Dave considered them both deeply. "Well, we'll have to take a vote…"

"I have a question," Louis cut in. "Jack, do you smoke?"

"Weed or cigs?"

"Weed."

Jack grinned, "Yeah!"

"Why am I not surprised?" David muttered.

"_Awesome_," Louis said. "They have my vote."

"Okay, we'll have to _officially _take a vote and I mean, there _are _other applicants, we can get back to you soon and—"

"I agree with Blink!" Nick interjected. David mumbled something that sounded like 'like you always do'. "These guys are_ so_ much cooler than those other people."

"Two out of three, that's majority." Seb pointed out, self-satisfied. "So when should we move in, Dave?"

David shot a helpless glance at his two roommates who were sending him identical hopeful looks and sighed loudly. "Fine. But I _will_ be checking with your references, Seb."

Seb grinned, "No prob."

"Okay," he continued, "We can figure out the paperwork later, but there are some rules you need to agree to follow."

Jack and Seb nodded, listening.

"First:" he ticked off one finger, "If you finish the last of the toilet paper, you're in charge of refilling. And don't try anything to get out of it either, we'll pick up on that. Second: If you are going to be late with the rent—which you _won't_ be—let me know so that my mom can cover so that you," He looked pointedly at Jack, "don't lose us this place. And third and _the_ most important: I don't know if either of you are gay or bi or whatever, but you are absolutely _forbidden _from flirting with, hitting on, dating, hugging, kissing, making out with, fucking, having sex with, or in any way leading on or having any romantic interaction with Louis. _No _exceptions."

"Hey!" Louis cried.

"Wow," Seb sounded impressed, "Did you really just say all of that in one breath?"

"I _mean _it," David said. "I'm not dealing with that kind of drama again."

"That's not fair," Louis argued. "You can't tell me who I can and cannot date!"

"I can when happening in _my _personal space."

"No you can't, _Mom_."

"Can so!" David replied haughtily. "You cost us some good roommates."

"The Delanceys were _not _good roommates!"

"They were until you had to go bring out Oscar's… assholishness."

"He started the whole thing!"

"He also always paid rent on time and helped me keep this place clean."

Nick was rolling his eyes across the table. "Come on, guys. They'll be fighting about this for a while, so I'm gonna take the intuitive—"

"Initiative?" Seb supplied.

"Yeah, that, and show you the neighborhood myself." He stood up and headed for the door, gesturing for Jack and Seb to follow, "Okay, there's this bagel place literally _right _downstairs called Toasted: For Your Pleasure that makes the best bagels and has the best name ever, right? And next to that is a dry cleaner and…"

Jack tuned Nick out, sure that he could get whatever information he missed from Seb. Eight flights going down seemed a lot shorter than going up. He couldn't stop grinning, he'd finally done something right: he'd found the perfect place for him and Seb to live at the perfect price with the perfect roommates. Even Dave wouldn't be so bad, considering the elementary school level argument they'd left him in the middle of.

"You are such a fuck up," Seb said to him while Nick rambled on a few steps in front of them.

"I'm not so bad," Jack replied. "I charmed my way into this apartment, didn't I?"

"I have no idea _how_, but yeah. You did." Seb smirked at him, "I'll give you that one, Jacky-boy."

Things were finally looking up.

* * *

**Alex's Note:**

Mad props, thanks, and buckets of love to **Gothica **for listening to me ramble on about every thought and idea for this story that popped into my head and for helping me put everything in order.

Even more thanks and buckets (because I have plenty to spare) to all of you wonderful **reviewers**. I desperately miss being able to do shoutouts because I want to thank you all individually in every chapter and I, old timer that I am, can't wrap my mind around the 'reply' feature. But please know that each review I get makes me smile and adds a bounce to my step and generally makes my day. Please keep doing it!

This chapter is really hard for me to plow through for some reason. Not sure why because I knew what I wanted to happen, but yeah. I have about five scenes worth of cutting room floor material. But the good news is that I finished my outline (thanks in no small part to **Gothica**)and have plenty of homework to procrastinate on, so chapters should come reasonably regularly! (knock wood)

**Fun Fact**: I wrote this author's note before I even finished the chapter cause that's how I roll and this chapter is _too damn hard to finish_. I hope it's not as boring to read as it is to write.


	4. like mother like son

**frengers  
**

* * *

"Hello?" 

"Hi Jack."

"Oh, hey Dad."

"'Oh, hey Dad?' That's all I get?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"How about an 'I'm sorry'?"

"For what?"

"Your bill came today. $700 shipping costs to New York City and another $250 for a salvation army pick up."

"Oh yeah… I meant to tell you about that."

"Couldn't find a buyer for your shitty couch, huh?"

"It wasn't _that _shitty."

"There were things _living _in there, Jack. It was shitty."

"It's a good thing there are enough crazy people in New Jersey to make sure that all of _your _couches are brand new, huh Dad?"

"My patients aren't crazy, Jack. You know I don't like you saying that."

"Yeah. Sorry."

"So tell me about New York."

"It's good."

"Exciting?"

"Yeah."

"How are your new roommates?"

"They're cool."

"And Seb?"

"Good."

"Are you working?"

"Not yet."

"And why is that?"

"Nothing's come up."

"Can you give me something more than one word answers?"

"I'm not one of your patients."

"I'm not asking you to be. I'm asking my _son _to tell his _father _about his life."

"It's good."

"Jack…"

"What?"

"Please give me something to work with here."

"You already know all about my childhood. You know more about my mother than I do… what else is there for me to say that you would be interested in?"

"Not funny, Jack."

"Why do you even care?"

"Because I would like to know what my kid is doing before I write him a check."

"You're giving me money?"

"New York's an expensive place to live."

"Yeah. Three weeks living here with no job? Believe me, I've noticed."

"So, what have you been doing?"

"Just walking around and exploring and stuff. New York is really big."

"By yourself?"

"Yeah. I mean, everyone else has so much stuff to do. Seb is still in school and working in Jersey, so I pretty much never see him anymore."

"He's graduating soon though, right?"

"Yeah. Salutatorian actually."

"His father must be proud."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Okay, so Seb's in school… what about your other roommates?"

"Um… David is taking like, eighty thousand credits plus he's in more clubs than I knew existed. So when he's actually _home _he's always studying like crazy."

"Ambitious kid."

"Nah, his mom just forces him to do all that shit."

"So if I forced you does that mean you'd make it through more than one semester?"

"Probably not."

"It was worth a shot."

"Yeah, no it wasn't."

"Didn't you say one of them was a dancer?"

"Yeah. Did you even know dance was a major?"

"It's apparently not a very easy one."

"Yeah, Mush is at school, like, more than David."

"Mush?"

"Yeah, he and my other roommate, Blink, had nicknames in high school that followed them out here."

"Got it."

"He teaches dance lessons too, at the Alvin and the Chipmunks Dance Studio. It's famous or something. He makes a shitload of money too, you wouldn't believe."

"…the Alvin and the Chipmunks Dance Studio?"

"Something like that."

"Alvin Ailey?"

"Yeah I think that's it."

"Great. So you live with a group of smart guys who are going places. Any chance it may inspire you to go back to school?"

"Not _all _of them go to school. Blink dropped out after only a year."

"Oh? And what is he doing now?"

"He has a _really _good job. He works full time at this record label. It's really cool. He brings home music all the time and gets free tickets to shows and stuff."

"Well he's very lucky. Unfortunately, Jack, it doesn't work like that for most people. I really want you to go back to school."

"I'll think about it."

"And if you don't, I at least want you to get a job."

"I told you, I'm trying."

"Are you really?"

"Yes! It's not as easy as it looks, okay?"

"I'm just wondering if there's an underlying reason that you aren't—"

"Dad, I thought you weren't going to psychoanalyze me today."

"I mean it, Jack. I want you to take a long, hard look at yourself, figure out what's holding you back and defeat it. You're a smart kid; there's no reason that you shouldn't be able to—"

"Okay, I've heard this speech before."

"And obviously it still hasn't gotten through to you."

"Well, you keep writing me checks."

"Fine. Forget it then."

"I really didn't mean that, Dad."

"You're twenty years old, Jack. I don't have to support you anymore. I don't have to give you _anything_."

"I know. And I promise this is the last one I'll need."

"Fine. Five hundred dollars. Spend it wisely because I mean it, after this, I fully expect you to be working."

"Five hundred dollars? Are you serious? That's not even half of my rent!"

"It was almost two months worth at your old place."

"Yeah, but this is New York! This is _cheap _for New York."

"You still can't afford it."

"Send me money then."

"Get a job."

"I will."

"Good."

"Bye Dad."

"Bye."

* * *

"Get excited! It's that time of year again!" Blink called out as he stepped into the apartment, dramatically throwing open the front door. 

Three weeks had passed since Seb and Jack had moved in; three weeks that had felt more like three years. They had fit in seamlessly with their new roommates. Even David was beginning to begrudgingly admit that giving them the rooms had been the right choice. Most weeknights found them—or at least the four who weren't obligated to trek to New Jersey everyday—hanging out together in the living room. Despite fond memories of being king of his high school, Jack was quickly realizing he'd never felt more comfortable with a group of people.

"What time of—oh _fuck _yeah!" Mush pumped a fist in the air as Jack's character gruesomely burst into flames. "I thought you said you were good at this game, Cowboy?"

"I _am_," Jack said, angrily pushing the reset button on the system. "You must have cheated."

"What the fuck! You just deleted my high score!"

"Let's see if you can get it again _without _cheating."

"I didn't cheat—Ow!" he cried, rubbing back of his head where David had just thrown a highlighter at him. "What the fuck dude?"

"I'm trying to work here. So shut up. Thanks." David said without looking up from the book he was reading.

"Guys! I have news," Blink said impatiently from where he'd stationed himself behind the couch.

"Go in your room then, you have a desk in there and everything, Davey. Ow, that really hurt."

"Oh suck it up," Jack rolled his eyes and shoved the controller back into Mush's hands. "Come on, asshole. Rematch."

"Guuuuys!" Blink whined.

"You're just gonna lose again, you know."

"Hey, can you give me back my highlighter?"

"No fucking way."

"Can someone _listen_ to me?"

"I _need _it, Mush!"

"Then you shouldn't have thrown it at me."

"Fine!" Blink pouted, "You're totally missing out then. Fuckers."

"_What_ Blink?" David said turning around to glare at him, "You're screaming in my ear."

"Well that's _because _I have news and no one's listening to me!"

"Don't piss him off," Mush advised, jabbing buttons on his controller. "He throws shit."

"Hah! I told you I rule at this."

"Game's not over yet, fuckface."

"We're fucking having the fucking biggest party in fucking forever of the fucking world and you won't fucking let me tell you a-fucking-bout it!" Blink finally yelled.

The controllers were promptly dropped and the game forgotten as Jack and Mush swiveled around to face Blink. "We are? _Awesome_!" Jack cried.

"Why?" Mush asked, excitedly.

"No." David said simply, the highlighter he'd retrieved not even pausing.

"It's not just any party though," Blink explained. "Guess who was chosen to host the intern party this year!"

"Oh my _god_!" Mush cried, "_Yes_!"

"What's that?" Jack asked.

Blink grinned, "Every year at Orpheus Records, after the summer interns are chosen, we have a huge party for them hosted by the lowest employee on the totem pole, which happens to be me this year—"

"That's not something to be proud of, you know."

"Shut up, David. Anyway, since we finished hiring our last one today, the party is this weekend. Last year Brad from A&R threw it and it was a total shit show—"

"It totally was. He took us and it _rocked_," Mush interjected.

"—so this year it has to be completely off the _hook_. A party no one can _ever _forget. Because if there is one thing Louis Ballatt can do, it's throw a party."

"It's true," Mush nodded to Jack. "You should have seen our after prom party."

"Oh yeah! Dude, that was _sick_." He exchanged grins with Mush.

"I said no," David said.

"No what?"

"No party."

Blink just laughed, "Funny, Davey."

"I mean it, Blink. You're not having the party here."

"What? You can't say no!"

"I just did," David capped the highlighter and shut his textbook. "My mom _just _finished redecorating this place like, two months ago and I don't want to risk it getting trashed. Sorry, Blink. Maybe next year."

Blink's mouth dropped open, "That's not _fair_, Dave!"

David shrugged, "Life isn't fair."

"But… but if I don't have this party all the guys at work will _laugh _at me! Brad will think I backed out because I was scared I couldn't live up to his party!"

"I'm sorry, Blink, but the answer is still no."

"Maybe you could get your mom—I mean David—to write a note and explain," Jack snickered.

Blink ignored him. "It's my apartment too!" he protested, looking about half a second from stamping his feet and throwing a temper tantrum.

"It's my Grandma's name on the lease."

"That's not fair!"

"You said that already. Besides, you remember what happened _last _time. Do you really want a repeat of that?"

"That was a total fluke. Jason is totally not invited this time."

"Doesn't matter. You're not having a party."

"You're being _completely _unfair, you know," he said, fists clenched tightly at his sides, "Everyone _else's_ roommates let them have cool parties."

David rolled his eyes, "Well, I'm not everyone else's roommate," he said.

"You sound like someone's _mother_," Blink pouted.

"Actually," Mush said thoughtfully, "You kind of sound like _your _mother."

"No I don't. Just because I told you that you can't have a party because I'm afraid you'll damage the good… oh my god." David's mouth dropped open. "Oh my god, I _do _sound like my mother. _Oh my god_!" He buried his face in his hands.

The three exchanged looks.

"Does that mean I can have my party?"

* * *

**Alex's Note: **Clearly, I'm pretty damn awesome. I say I'll update regularly and then… I don't. Sorry guys. Finals and job searching and summer classes took over. Also, this chapter was supposed to have two more sections in which things actually happen, but it ended up being tremendously long so I split it in two. So take this as a transition chapter. 

Thanks loads to **Keza: Queen of Motivation**, who's semi constant badgering got me to actually write this thing. And **Hilbary**, this chapter's beta, no strings attached, god must have spent a little more time on you. I will never say bye bye bye.

Review cause I love you all.


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